


Head trauma

by aravenwood



Series: Febuwhump '19 [10]
Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Gen, Hurt Aramis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-25 16:33:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17728826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aravenwood/pseuds/aravenwood
Summary: Prequel to "Coma". How Aramis was hurt.Written for the Febuwhump '19 prompt "head trauma".





	Head trauma

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, again! So something occurred this morning; yesterday's prompt, today's prompt and tomorrow's prompt could all very easily be centered around a single event. It makes sense and I don't know why I didn't think of it before. Admittedly I had a slightly mediocre piece written for today's, but I wasn't particularly keen on it. And for tomorrow's, I had an idea but I realised that it fits just as nicely with another prompt too. So yaaaay, that makes things a little easier. Well maybe not easier. But it makes sense. And I like this more than the other one I had planned so yaaaaay.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!

Sometimes, Athos thought about murdering Aramis. It was rare, admittedly – most of the time he was at least manageable – but right now, Athos was sure that he could kill Aramis if given half a chance. He’d been waiting outside the other man’s apartment building for twenty minutes, hitting the horn on his car every now and again in an increasingly impatient manner. Twenty minutes! By now he should have at least looked out of his window to see what all the racket was about and recognised Athos’s car. But seemingly not, because he hadn’t appeared, nor had he even bothered to call and apologise for whatever was holding him up. It wasn’t like him, but Athos was in too much of a bad mood to be concerned.

“Are you really going to make me come and get you?” he grumbled and climbed out of his car, slamming the door behind him with enough force to rattle the windows. He glanced back briefly just to ensure that he hadn’t actually broken anything. Everything was in one piece. For now.

The walk through the apartment building to Aramis’s door was nearly silent, punctuated only by his own heavy footsteps and the occasional irritated sigh. He was in no mood for this, not when he’d woken up with his face pressed into his kitchen table, an empty bottle of scotch next to him. His head was aching and he was ready to throw up for the second time in nearly an hour. This was just the icing on the cake.

He continued to grumble all the way upstairs, one hand clutching the banister while the other switched between holding his stomach and scrubbing at his eyes. But as he rounded the corner to Aramis’s apartment, he suddenly fell silent as his eyes landed on the door.

The wood surrounding the handle was dented, the paint cracked and chipped. It was ajar, closed over just enough that Athos couldn’t see inside from where he’d frozen in shock. The anger drained from his expression, replaced with anxiety. A break in? When? Was Aramis-? Athos shook his head and began to creep towards the door, keeping his steps small and light. As he reached it, he pushed on the wood and let the door swing slowly open, revealing to Athos a frightening scene.

Most of the furniture in the sitting room was knocked over; papers and books covered the floor; drawers and cupboards where thrown open and their contents scattered all over. The whole room had been trashed, like someone had been looking for something and hadn’t cared about tidying up after themselves. Not Aramis then – he liked at least a little order, and kept his apartment as neat as he kept his appearance.

But it got worse, because then Athos saw the bloodstains and the body on the floor.

“Aramis!”

Aramis was sprawled on his side, his face half-buried in the bloodstained carpet. He was dressed in a t-shirt – also covered in blood – and a pair of boxers, and his skin was covered in goosebumps from exposure to the cold morning. There was a deep cut just below his hairline, almost hidden beneath the dried blood surrounding it.

Athos fell to his knees at the other man’s side and felt for a pulse, letting out a short sigh of relief upon finding one – slow and a little thread, but there. His breathing was shallow and stutter, but at least he was breathing. He was alive at least. “Aramis?” Athos called gently and gave the other a quick shake in an attempt to wake him. “Aramis, can you hear me?”

There was no response.

“Aramis!”

Nothing.

Athos pulled his hand back and brought out his phone from his coat pocket. He dialled quickly and tucked it between his ear and shoulder in order to free up his hands. “Ambulance,” he instructed as he leaned forwards to check Aramis’s eyes. Left pupil was small, almost pinpoint. Right pupil...huge. “My friend…he has a head injury. Unconscious and unresponsive. His pupils are different, that’s not good is it?”

The operator hesitated, and that was all Athos needed to know.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
